


Who Knows Why

by mongoosling



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, Jeremiah exploring his sexuality, M/M, Oral Sex, bisxuality, not quite hate-fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoosling/pseuds/mongoosling
Summary: By some fault of fate, they find themselves in this situation. Jeremiah Gottwald finds himself undeniably curious about what such a companion has in store for him. That said, it is not entirely clear what Lloyd Asplund wants behind that infuriating smirk.
Relationships: Jeremiah Gottwald/Lloyd Asplund, Lloyd Asplund/Jeremiah Gottwald
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Who Knows Why

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at a new pairing I like to call Orange-Pudding. Anyone else kind of into this?

It was a celebration. With the exception of the royal family, he was no longer anyone's inferior. In an odd twist of irony, the forsaken Area 11 was very nearly his. Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald. 

It induced a smirk. Yes, Viletta had been right. It was certainly worth a drink. Which was how the purist faction found itself in an establishment, lined up against a lacquered bar, drinking away. 

Typically, he wasn't one for frivolity and parties, but he'd allowed himself to be swayed. Even Kewell had congratulated him that evening, however petulantly. It indicated that his promotion was unequivocal. Not even Kewell could dispute his newfound power. With each passing sip of his chilled whiskey, his haunted memories sailed further and further away, and time slipped through him as if flowing through water. 

…

He hadn't even noticed when Viletta disappeared, but he was suddenly aware that she was no longer by his side, and was now entwined with some polished officer in a dark corner of the bar. Jeremiah scanned the perimeter curiously. His right-hand woman had not been the only one to branch off in between the drinks. 

Somehow, on his evening of celebration, Jeremiah had found himself in a moment of isolation.

Then blue eyes met his. Returning his searching stare.  
…

In his appraisal of the surroundings and the intoxicated din of the upper class, Jeremiah hadn't expected anyone else to be watching. 

An earl no less. Asplund. Jeremiah was just drunk enough to let go of the usual irritation this particular individual inspired. Instead, he allowed himself to wonder. It wasn't the environment he'd ever imagined the eccentric engineer to frequent. 

Jeremiah noted that the other noble was also without company. With nothing to lose and a craving for fresh conversation, the newly appointed margrave, indicated with a gesture of his hand that the seat adjacent to his was vacant.  
…

"So congratulations are in order?" The man purred his opening line, as his entire body folded against the surface of the bar.

Jeremiah smirked, pleased with how fast the news had traveled.

"That's right," he did not hide his pleasure. 

“Curious that they would pick you of all people.”

The smile dropped from his face in an instant. 

"You are an insufferable man, Lloyd, even after two glasses of whiskey," Jeremiah assessed, but Lloyd only chortled, it was a fantastically unpleasant sound.

"Then perhaps you need another drink?"

"Perhaps," Jeremiah was inclined to agree, and waved the bartender over, indicating that he would like to repeat his order. 

"What will you have?" He asked offhandedly.

"I'm not drinking," Lloyd said with a whimsical smile.

Jeremiah stared at him, befuddled, "Then why the devil are you here?"

"Checking out the prospects!" His arms flailed excitedly, eyes very pointedly crawling over Jeremiah’s body, the expression of a very strange interest.

Despite himself, the Margrave gaped, the shade of his cheeks deepened ever so slightly. He didn’t often blush, but this was just so unfathomable. Certainly, not the attention he’d been searching for. No, definitely not.

And yet the way Lloyd’s eyes seemed to crawl so hungrily down the line of his pressed Britannian uniform. A hot little prickle curled against his neck.

"--Excuse me?"

Lloyd leaned in closer, speaking in a low secretive tone, "Between me and you, I am still hard at work."

It did not clarify much, but at the very least it diverged his line of thinking. 

"This establishment is quite popular among the diverse array of Britannian officers. I'm searching for a skilled pilot who will be able to handle my latest project, and-- how shall I put this, high-speed motion can induce vertigo that resembles the effects of copious quantities of alcohol."

“Latest project?” Jeremiah raised an eyebrow, interest rekindled in an instant.

“ _Secret_ project,” Lloyd smiled. “Sadly, you are no longer a candidate, what with your new-found responsibility. I hope you don't crack under the pressure, Sir.”

"Lloyd," Jeremiah cut off his musings dryly. "Enough. Have a drink with me."

His tone was closer to an order than an invitation, as was the glare in his orange eyes. Even someone as thick as Asplund could gage that, and the other man swallowed thickly. 

"If you insist, _Margrave_ ," there was that purr again. How infuriating, a man who seemingly took nothing seriously.

… 

At some point, the tone of the conversation changed. 

The drinks settled further, and Lloyd’s body somehow became even more fluid than usual. 

“Enough of this asinine conversation,” Jeremiah interrupted whatever infuriating tangent the engineer had brought up this time. He could only bring himself to half-listen if he wished to maintain a pleasant mood.

“What shall we do instead?” Lloyd’s expression was testing. Pushing boundaries, that Jeremiah had yet to wrap his mind around.

“I suppose it’s time to retire,” he noted that most of the patrons of the establishment had disappeared already, including Viletta and her polished officer. The night had served its purpose, and now Jeremiah’s extremities were vibrating in a pleasant way that only top-shelf liquor could inspire. 

“Hmm,” Lloyd’s hum of disappointment seemed awfully exaggerated. “How uninspired, I expected more creativity from the new leader of this magnificently ravaged area.”

Unable to ignore the challenge, Jeremiah straightened to his full height, glaring at his companion. 

“And what exactly do you suggest?”

Lloyd’s bespeckled eyes glinted, and suddenly his unassuming smirk turned dangerous.

“I had a few ideas in mind.”

…

He’d found himself dragged to the streets outside, not entirely certain if he’d agreed to this yet. 

There were certain expectations for those of noble heritage like the Gottwald and Asplund lines. He was certain that this would derail the entire social hierarchy if anyone were to witness it. None the less, he could not fight the seductive anticipation the very thought inspired.

Coincidentally, the streets were deserted, and Lloyd was leading him deeper and deeper into allies that offered a type of privacy Jeremiah hadn’t considered before. Then again, he didn’t do this often, and the alcohol was just potent enough to deepen his curiosity. 

“Now what?” he said, tone of voice unimpressed when Lloyd finally settled on a secluded crook of the street. There was a faint scent of trash wafting through the urban tunnel, there were several containers nearby. It was quite disgusting. 

Lloyd did not respond immediately. Instead, he appraised his fellow noble curiously.

“You always do what you’re told, don’t you?”

And the way he said it, implied that this was not a coveted feature. 

“Have you ever considered that it is you who are the problem? You’re a loose cannon, Lloyd. I must deal with you before you bring down the entire empire.”

“Shouldn’t you?”

Those were the final words, the conclusion of their vocal dual. With little warning, Lloyd’s hands sided on Jeremiah’s broad shoulders in a surprisingly sturdy grip. Then, their lips collided, and before the young margrave’s mind even had time to process, his body responded. His mouth reciprocated the movement, sliding expertly against Lloyd’s.

It was not his first kiss. Merely his first kiss with another man. 

A deep curiosity had always existed within him, craving exactly this kind of attention. There was an understanding that feminine touch was a very attractive prospect, but it sometimes felt like a forbidden fruit. This masculine body was equally enticing and much easier to attain. Further, it seemed just as receptive to his touch. Of course, he hadn’t ever pictured this happening with Lloyd Asplund of all individuals, but he was just drunk enough to appreciate that lithe form, those light eyes, and that silky hair.

One of his hands rose, gripping those strands firmly, and bringing them even closer together, deepening the kiss in a smooth movement. 

The other man was light and wiry, and Jeremiah had no trouble maneuvering their bodies. Shifting rather forcefully, he pinned Lloyd against the bricks of the alley, covering his body and sinking closer.

To his credit, Lloyd did not surrender so easily, matching Jeremiah in the enthusiasm and catching the spillage from his broken dam with an appropriate eagerness. However, as Jeremiah pushed him against the wall of the alley, a shallow grunt escaped the man on impact, his glasses were skewed ever so slightly, and he broke the kiss to catch his breath.

As they panted at each other, Lloyd shifted slightly, unintentionally rubbing against the suddenly apparent stiffness prodding at his waist. He blinked, moderately surprised at how quickly it had formed. 

“My, my,” that infuriating purr. “An eager one, aren't you, Margrave?”

“Shut up, Lloyd,” Jeremiah growled, his nose brushing against the other man’s, his own breath was weighted. “Are you going to do something about it or not?”

…

With a light pat against Jeremiah’s shoulder, Lloyd’s signal became apparent. Jeremiah shifted just enough to facilitate his partner’s movements. In an action that required minimal efforts and a malleable partner, Lloyd was able to successfully switch their positions. 

A light hand led Jeremiah further, encouraging him to lean against the wall. The insufferable smirk loomed as Lloyd moved to kiss his companion one more time, light but decisive. It sparked a frustration very deep inside the pit of Jeremiah’s stomach. The man frowned, unable to comprehend his own feelings except for that unexplained desire for a man that he despised in most other contexts. 

His hand met Lloyd’s shoulder, leading him downward in a hard line.

Surprisingly, he complied, landing on his knees in the filthy alley. He even had the gall to laugh. As if there were something remotely funny about the situation. Some joke, that the noble just couldn’t comprehend. Lloyd was _never_ serious. It was beyond aggravating.

...

For a long moment, the violet haired man teased.

His nimble hands pulled the other man’s shirts free from the confines of the belt holding them in place. Then cool fingers drifted, exploring the toned abdomen underneath that had been left to his disposal. It was nice, the muscles twitched under his administration. Warm and supple. Soft kisses followed. One to his hip, then to the other side. Then, an extraordinarily calculated lick to the line just above Jeremiah’s pants. 

“Well?” Jeremiah panted, his impatience building along with his arousal.

The stiffness that Lloyd had detected before was even more obvious, forming a significant shape beneath the fabric of his tight uniform pants.

“Impatient,” somehow, Lloyd was still laughing, but finally, finally, his fingers had moved to the button of his trousers, popping the clasp apart, and working to free Jeremiah’s persistent erection.

With little further deliberation, Lloyd took the flesh into his mouth, sinking deep in an instant, and working his tongue along the length.

At last, Jeremiah relaxed, tense muscles splayed against the wall. The administration was warm and persistent. Apparently, Lloyd had, had his practice in the art. Actually, Jeremiah wasn’t so surprised. It was something many at the academy had suspected, and even teased about. Although Jeremiah had never confronted his peer, his curiosity had maintained. 

Curiosity. Interest.

Lloyd licked along the underside of his shaft, and Jeremiah’s hands sank into that silken hair, leading him, up, down, and again. His responsibilities had kept him away from such prospects for a long time. Of course, when he did find availability, it was a female companion who entertained him. 

Now, with Lloyd on his knees beneath him, Jeremiah came to the quick realization that a mouth was a mouth. The gender beyond hardly mattered.

This would suffice.

He glanced down and found those calculating eyes sizing him from below. He was caught off guard, and honestly a little put off. Still, it didn’t stop the shiver that temored through his body, especially when he noticed that one of Lloyd’s slender hands had begun to work its way over the crotch of his own pants. 

With a soft groan, Jeremiah melted into the brick supporting his body. His eyes rolled back as the climax coiled in on itself, commencing deep in his stomach, and climbing up to beat hard in his chest, his heartbeat ricocheting. 

As Jeremiah came, Lloyd remained diligently on the ground, catching every drop, closing his eyes for the first time, in his efforts to contain the mess. The margrave did not notice that moment as he sank down from his orgasm. Then Lloyd freed his own arousal and began to pump it up and down in uncharacteristic diligence. 

In a matter of strokes, the engineer was also spilling out, just barely missing Jeremiah’s polished shoes. The orgasm was accompanied by the quietest of mewling sounds. 

…

After a beat, the two men began gathering themselves. Brief silence accompanied the rustling of their clothes, and the sound of Lloyd spitting conclusively onto the ground. 

With their clothes in order, blue eyes met orange, one pair curious, the other fierce.  
“You don’t speak of this to anyone, Asplund. Understood?” Jeremiah left the threat unspoken, certain the imagination of the engineer would suffice. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Margrave,” and it was as if that smirk had never left his thin lips. It left Jeremiah to question if the transgression would truly remain a secret… Time would tell, and he would punish accordingly.  
…

Once they’d exited the alley they moved in opposite directions. The whiskey continued to thrum in his mind, despite it Jeremiah made an effort not to look over his shoulder as he headed in the direction of his penthouse. 

As he walked, he had a feeling that the earl had walked away with a similar determination. He could picture it, Lloyd slinking away into the shadows, thinking thoughts that only that particular brand of man could muster.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo?? Let me know what you thought :)


End file.
